Annabel's Birthday Cake Marissa Zappas

Sweet and moody, strange and twinkly. There’s no box-mix funfetti to this cake. It’s waxy marzipan fondant, topped with honeycomb and desiccated rose petals. The cake itself is lemony, layered with custard. And the crown jewel: that telltale squeak of latex. It’s very sugar-and-spice, but not so innocent. The whole fragrance has this hazy vintage tone and feels rather melancholy. Very haunted porcelain doll, very Tim Burton love interest. Very sexy sad clown. Adorable, but unstable. Pairs well with cutting your own bangs and singing along to Imogen Heap in a Vegas hotel bathroom. (Not that I’d have such experience).

Mental Snapshot: It's the little heiress's birthday party, all frilly tablecloths and gilded candelabras. A harlequin damsel jingles about, bound to serve the wicked Don Montresor. She’s in her full Carnival press: white paint, rouge, ruffed particolour velvet. The family pampers her well, but there's scarcely any blush to her nose or honk to her shoes. Shouldn’t have gone to clown school.

tl;dr: clownquette